


Between the Lines

by Crymore



Series: Raylin Palmer [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Baby angst with happy ending, Both Len and Ray are kinda lying in their relationship, F/M, mentions sex but nothing explicit, suspicious len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crymore/pseuds/Crymore
Summary: Len’s one night stand turned girlfriend is nice and sweet and totally uncomplicated. Then Len learns what she did for a living.





	Between the Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! Au time! Have a happy, not E/M-rated fic from me!

The girl was quiet, Len’ll give her that. The only reason he woke up at all was because Mick’s obnoxious snore shook the apartment and woke him with a jolt. The girl was already half dress, not even rousing Len from his slumber. 

He debated if he should pretend to be asleep or to say something. Usually, the girls he brings home are clumsy in bed, fulfill their purpose, sleep off the alcohol, then clumsily get dress in the morning and leave, forgetting Len and his address. This girl was different though. She wasn’t drunk when she agreed to go home with him, was clumsy because of nerves, because she was worried she’d be bad or disappointing (she soooo wasn’t), and she carefully avoided waking him up. She was sweet and considerate, had tinkling laughter rather than drunken chuckles, held him close rather than push him away…

“Hey.” Len mumbled tiredly, at least trying to sound that way. He’d been awake for about ten minutes. 

The girl startled, and stared at Len with wide brown eyes. He couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but he remembered calling her Bambi.

“Hey, good morning.” She hushed, sitting on the floor next to Len’s bed, by his head, and pulled on a thigh-high stocking. 

Len remembered taking those off with his teeth. 

He smirked, face still half pressed in the pillow. “Leaving so soon?”

Bambi looked genuinely apologetic as she sighed. “I have work. Like, an actual important-“ she gestured vaguely, “work thing.” She ended lamely. “If it was any other day, I’d just skip.”

How sweet, she’d stay with him. Len’s usual girls typically just hit it and quit it. 

Len carefully stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek (he remembered her liking that). 

“‘S okay, Bambi. Life happens.” Len was fine with it, really. Girl was a good lay, not like he would want to see her again. Listen to her laugh. Enjoy the sound of his name on her lips. Have her ramble on about science fiction or occult movies and make a Top Gun reference about five minutes of knowing him. Have her hold him when their less savory deeds were done.…

Shit, Len was getting soft in his old age.

“Come’ere.” He said quietly, as not to disturb the air. He sat up lazily and slowly, until he was half bent upwards. “‘Least let me zip you up.”

A brilliant blush ran down the girl’s face and neck, eyes glued to his abdomen. Specifically trailing the toned muscles. 

Len smirked again. 

“Didn’t see that in the dark.” She mumbled, smiling shyly and standing up so Len could reach the zipper of her dark purple dress. 

Len swallows down the phrase “Next time, then.” Rather, he lets his hands press gently onto the fabric, rubbing his palms on her hips and waist before slowly pulling the zipper up. In a playful act, Len stretched himself to kiss the top of Bambi’s spine once the action was complete. She giggled (it sounded lovely) and sat down on his bed, next to his legs. Quickly, so she couldn’t respond if she wanted, Len cupped Bambi’s chin and dragged her face to his, carefully pressing his lips to her. 

Maybe he was being selfish, because he probably never see him again and she was the first person to make him genuinely laugh with her lame science jokes; or because she really was kind to him, looking for companionship and not sex; or because of a thousand other reasons; but Len just really wanted to keep kissing Bambi.

She sighed into the kiss, opening her mouth and letting Len reclaim the warm cavern with his tongue. Thin arms wrapped around his neck as Bambi pulled herself closer to him. She broke apart from him, pecking his mouth quickly before whining, “I actually really need to leave.”

Len smirked against her mouth. “I’m not stopping you.”

Bambi giggled prettily, and teasingly called him a cheater. Len responded by regaling her that she husseled him at pool the night before and she laughed again and stood up.

She flattened the creasing of her dress with her palms before nervously speaking. “I, uh, don’t remember if I gave you my number last night-“

Ah, she was one of those girls. Worse comes to worse, Len just won’t call her ever again and avoid that upscale bar they met at. But thinking about not seeing that pretty face again made his chest seize up oddly. 

Len was already fishing for his phone by his nightstand before Bambi finished her sentence or before his own thoughts were completed. 

She quickly typed in her information, pecked his cheek, and reluctantly left his room and apartment. 

Len tried not to feel depressed at her departure. 

After staring at his closed door for a few long moments, Len finally looked down at his phone again, having to punch in his password again, looking past the picture of his sister as his phone background and looked through his contacts. It was easy to find; seeing that the only numbers Len had were Mick’s, Lisa’s, and his parole officer. 

So, Bambi’s name is Ray. Just Ray? Short for Rachel? Or something else? Len seems to recall that it was Raylin. Was that even a real name?

Regardless, Len stretched and cracked his back, feeling the sore ache from last nights activities in his… well, everywhere. He really needed a shower, and he had to check in with his PO today. Pushing the thought of Ray and her laugh and her long dark hair and her number away from the forefront of his head, the thief got ready for the day.

Beside, it wasn’t like he was going to call her. 

—-

Len called Ray. About two days later. In his defense he was off his game, and Ray had offered to see him again. Mick scoffed at that answer. Also in Len’s defense, he hadn’t anticipated how addicting Ray’s laughter would be.

They met up at a bar, talked a lot (mostly Ray), didn’t have sex but planned another date; Ray’s full name was Raylin Carla Palmer (“So lame, I know.””Better than Leonard Ryan Snart.”). Second date had sex after dinner, as well as the third. Fourth date was to a drive-in and they made out in the back seat like teenagers. Fifth date was nice; Chinese take out and watching old Science Fiction movies while Mick was visiting his lady doctor friend. That was then he realized that they never went to her place for dates or rendezvous. He also realized that Ray never said what she did for a living; nor anything about her family outside of the fact she had a twin brother. 

Then again, Len never told her he was on parole, an ex-con, housing with another criminal. As far as Raylin knew, Mick was a mechanic that Len knew since his teenage years, technically true, but his Bambi didn’t need to know about his old life.

Sixth date, Mick tagged along. They went to Saints and Sinners and Ray wiped the floor with them playing pool. Mick said that she had to be cheating, but Ray just gave a secret sort of smile and said nothing.

The longer that Len knew Ray, the more it bothered him that he knew so little, hell, he didn’t even know where in Central she lived. 

When Ray suggested a home cooked meal for their seventh date, Len absentmindedly suggest her place, seeing as his and Mick’s apartment was in a constant state of being trashed. 

Seventh date turned out being a surprise date of Ray coming over and having Len help her clean his apartment. Eighth date was in the morning, breakfast the morning after made on Len’s recently cleaned stove. It turns out Ray has a severe gluten allergy, and that his Bambi is far more clever then Len gives her credit for, seeing as she had just eliminated the only reason Len could think of as to why they should go to her apartment. 

The next thing Len knows, it’s been six months, and Ray had become one of the select few he gives a damn about. He still hasn’t been to her house, but she still doesn’t know he’s been to prison, so it’s a give and take.

Mick is telling him to man up and be direct about it; that this is the longest relationship Len has ever had (it is) and that pussy-footing around shit won’t help anyone (he’s right) and if Len was gonna make he and Ray a permanent thing, there shouldn’t be any secrets (right again). But Ray… Raylin was possibly one of the best things to happen to Len, up there with Lisa and Mick, and to lose her over his past… it might send Len down a road he won’t like. 

Raylin had become so integral to Len’s life. They were always texting and calling and talking about everything and nothing and hanging out at Len’s favorite bars and they watch Ray’s favorite movies and it was a great relationship and Len really did not want this to end. And, yeah, Ray didn’t know about his father or record or the fact he was a high school dropout, but he doesn’t know Raylin’s brother’s name or her job or her… anything really. It doesn’t bother Len but it does. He had Raylin; did her past really matter? She was probably a secretary or something if the sort, based on the way she dressed and complained about “Marcy on the third floor” or “Andre from accounting”. Perfectly normal to think of her as a secretary or computer admin or something as equally boring and normal. 

One night, late without Ray at his favorite with mick, watching the evening news, Len was shown that maybe he should have pressed the issue of getting to know Raylin more, because Mick gestured to the bar’s tv with a puzzled expression; and Len looked and lo and behold, there was Raylin. 

Raylin was dressed in one of her nicer dresses (the dark blue one Len liked so much) paired with a matching blazer, looking cool and confidant as she walked across a stage to a podium with several microphone attached to it. The banner running along the screen read “PalmerTech CEO and Founder, Dr. Raylin C. Palmer.”

Len’s mouth runs dry. Mick watches him carefully. 

Ray is answering questions about PalmerTech’s newest protect, a light weight vehicle that runs on steam rather than gas. She professional and sure of herself; having an answer to all of the reporters questions and mini-speeches about how proud she is of her company (her baby, she fondly calls it), her employees, and how hopeful she is for the future. 

One reporter, a broad man with slick black hair and strewn glasses is called on my Ray. 

“Daily Planet.” He introduces. “Miss Palmer, many want to know if you have any intention on bringing on a partner to be your Co-CEO. There are even rumors that yourself and Mr. Oliver Queen, CEO of Queen’s Consolidated are actually engaged.”

Len dropped his glass of whiskey at the question. 

Raylin’s pleasant smile drops and she looks annoyed. It’s a strange look on her face, and Len’s half drunk mind thought childishly that Ray should never be upset and she should only ever be happy. 

“Oliver Queen and I are not in a relationship. And PalmerTech and Queens Consolidated have no intention on merging, in any way, shape, or form.” Ray clipped, glaring down the reporters before they could jump on her venerability. 

The sober half though is running through everything Raylin has ever said that would indicate she secretly was a billionaire CEO bachelorette. Her clothes were always nice, but Lisa blows her dough on clothes too and she isn’t rich. Len and Ray always go Dutch on dates; she drank the same cheap booze he did; never blinked an eye at some of the dives he took her to; had an old Ford Cortina that she proudly claims she’s had since she was sixteen; nothing really stood out. 

Then Len is thinking about how she doesn’t act like the typical jack ass way that wealthiness tends to be associated with. Ray is nice, she’s kind, she makes lame jokes and movie references and knows Len’s favorite books. She wears floral skirts and plays pool better than anyone and refuses to cuss. How could Ray be… anything that Len thinks that the 1% should act.

“Any other questions? Ones that pertain to the purpose of this press conference and not my personal life?”

Before Len knew what he was doing, he had his phone out and googling Ray’s name. He never really had the urge before, since Ray said she didn’t have a Facebook and, on a drunken night in, she showed Len her MySpace page from the early 2000’s. 

The first thing that comes up is PalmerTech’s link to their staff. The second is a general science website. Len clicks it, even though Mick makes a warning noise next to him. It’s a simple website about the creme de la creme of the scientific community. Ray is under the mechanics section, and there’s a brief biography.

Raylin came from a place call Ivy Town in Iowa, her mother and brother still lives there but her father died of cancer when she was 15. She went to college at 16 for general mechanics. Kept going until she had her doctorate in the field, as well as a business degree and another doctorate in physics and robotics (a doctor three times over Len thought a little hysterically). Graduated with honors, top of her class. Her professors called her a genius for her inventions, her understanding of physics and called her the modern Tesla, Edison, Einstein. The next paragraph was how she started her business at 26, and how in less than three years became one of the largest competitors on the appliance market as well as clean energy. A billionaire in less than 5 years. It ended with her most well known inventions, such as the PalmerWatch, the hydro-engine, and an exo-combat suit (with a footnote declaring that Ray refuses to sell her design to the military). Underneath all of it were pictures, of Ray in high school, college, at her company’s opening, receiving awards, working on some machine with people around her. 

Len stared at his phone screen numbly. Some stupid website that high schoolers were supposed to use for a report gave him more information on his Bambi than she ever did. He felt lied to, betrayed. The same feeling he had when his mother left one day and never came back. When he couldn’t blame her action, but was still angered by them.

“Len, give me your phone.”

Len ignore Mick and picked a different website while throwing down his drink and ordered a new one with a gesture. Another one said basically the same thing, went in more about her childhood (stay at home mom and heart surgeon father. Ironically died of heart cancer. Small town, humble beginnings and all that). Same thing. Next website was a list of every known invention Raymond created. There was a lot. 

None of the websites said how Ray’s favorite movies were the original Star Wars trilogy and Singing in the Rain, or that she like Star Trek, or her favorite book was the Sherlock Holmes and the Speckled Band. Said nothing about her shitty car or worse sense of humor. Didn’t say her favorite drink or foods or perfume. A selfish dark part of Len was thankful for this. They might know a generalized version of Raylin, but he knew her personally, intimately. 

It was the only thing Len had the the rest of the world didn’t. It was a cold comfort.

Mick snatched the phone, ordered Len another drink, and proceeded to get his old friend as drunk as he humanely could. What else was Mick supposed to do, have Len talk about his feelings? Hell no. 

—-

Snart’s weren’t known for making good decisions whilst intoxicated. Lukas Snart danced on the table singing old shanties, Lisa Snart went on an online shopping sprees and deprecated her bank account. Lewis Snart best the shit out of kids. And Leonard Snart texts whoever was at the top of his contact list with far too many emotions and grammatical/spelling errors.

Unfortunately for Len, that person was Raylin.

12:04  
Heyy bambi, we shud tak.

12:04  
Lol talk.

12:10  
Lol should. I’m ar S$S witg mickky

12:12  
Cume ver 2mro. Wanna see your cut fCe. 

12:13  
Did that work thinh goo good? U loiked madd.

Len looked at his sent messages last night and groaned into his pillow. Jesus, Ray was going to have so many questions, he didn’t even know where to start with his bullshit. It was a small mercy that Ray never texted him back. The one good thing that came from last night. Jesus what was Len even supposed to say to Ray? “Hey, how come you never told me you a billionaire genius? Also, you know Oliver Queen?” Yeah, that’ll blow over well. 

He couldn’t even have Mick distract Ray until Len was emotionally ready enough to face this shit, seeing as Mick called his lady doctor friend and the uptight buy polite woman came to the bar to drive the pyro to her place. Not before advising the bartender to start slipping Len water.

“Len? You here?”

And of course this was when Raylin decided to show up. Because Len’s life wasn’t complicated enough. 

Ray, dressed in a pink floral dress and mint green cardigan, concern painted on her face and purse clutched in her fist, walked into Len’s bedroom softly. Len wanted to roll over and not face the too innocent face of his girlfriend. But then again, she did hide her identity from him for six months. 

Filled with a sudden rage, Len sat up quickly and faced the dark haired woman, who now looked more confused than before.

“Where do you live?” That seemed the most important question right then. 

“Uh, about twenty minutes from her-“

“What your address?”

“Len, what’s gotten into you?”

He scowled and stood up. He half didn’t want to be threatening, didn’t want to use the same attics he used on his old crew, what his father used on him. Then again, he was tired of all this avoidance. “I saw you last night.”

Ray stilled, no more nervous twitching or swaying to be seen. “Where.”

Len had to swallow before answering. “On TV. At Saints and Sinners.”

Raylin looked gutted. Defeated and miserable.

“Len, I can-“

“I don’t-“ he shook his head, cutting her off. His thoughts swirled around rapidly in head. The lies and half-truths about her job was one thing, Len could forgive that. But, the wealth, her status? What the hell is she doing with him? “Am I just low-life you’re getting your rocks off with? Just some cheap, average joe to play house with before you get back to your cocktail parties?”

“No, Leonard, that’s not-“

Len began to pace the short length of his room. “Just a bed warmer then? Some kind of-“

“Shut it!” The shout was unexpected from Raylin, who was always so quiet. When Len looked at she was red in the face, indignant and flushed. “Is that what you think? That I’m, I’m shaking up with you because I’m some bored rich b-bitch?!”

If it was any other circumstance, Len would laugh good naturedly at Ray’s stuttering while trying to curse; but right now Len feels like his world is ending so he couldn’t find it in himself to be mirthful about anything.

He scoffed. “Well tell me, what does a billionaire do with some low-life like me?”

An angry fire lit up in Ray’s eyes that Len has never seen before. 

“She dates him! Idiot!” Len raised his eyebrows at the insult. Ray never insults people, ever. “I’m not dating you because I’m bored, or, or-or because I want to see how the ‘other side’ lives! I’m dating you because I want to!” 

An flair of anger unfurled in Len’s stomach, he swallowed it down, refusing to act on it (don’t be like dad, don’t yell, don’t hit her, don’t hit anything-) “Well what? Did you get desperate?”

Her purse was dropped. “No, I gave up!”

There was a loud knocking above them, and ray looked bashful for yelling.

With a sad sigh, she played with the hem of her shirt. “Right after I got my millionaire status, I met a guy named Denny. He was nice, and we went out for, like, two weeks.” She shrugged. “Then I found him digging through my purse looking for my credit cards.” A delicate frown pulled at her lips. “Turns out he saw my picture in the paper and sought me out. I did t date for a while after that. Next was Jesse,” she sighed almost wistfully and leaned against the dresser by the door, plucking something on top of it. “She was… exciting. Then she wouldn’t stop needling me about how a proper socialite should act. I managed to read between the lines then.”

Len sat down heavily on to his bed and watch Raylin worry the piece paper between her thumb and forefinger. “I dated a couple bankers after that. All boring and stuffy.” She chuckled. “No fun. Then more than once people wanted the Ray with the bank account and billion dollar business, not Ray with the old Cortina.”

She sighed heavily, and Len just watched quietly as hot tears rolled down her face. “So I resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going date, and I probably wasn’t ever going to get married because who’d want Raylin?” 

I do, Len thought. I do, I do, more than anything.

“So I went out to get drunk. And I made a Top Gun reference that someone across the bar laughed at.” She gave a water chuckle and looked to the scrap of paper. Len realized it was the stub ticket to the drive in they saw together. “So we started talking, and I hustled him at pool, and we just talked, and it wasn’t until he suggested he suggested we go to his place that o realized that this was the first person who was interested in me for my dumb jokes and not my bank account.”

Len remembers the night through a blur, but the pleasantness of Ray’s company was easily his favorite part of the evening… yes, even the sex.

“And I didn’t think he’d call me, but he did, and he kept calling me and he didn’t even know who I was and I even told him my full name and he had no clue!” She laughed, half-hysteric. “But by the time I figured I should tell him, it’s been,” she blew a piece of hair out of her face.

“It was way past the appropriate time allotment?” Len offered lightly. 

Ray laughed. “Yeah.”

The tension was gone, and both of them were giggling like children, breathless and quiet. 

“I’m sorry I never told you.” Ray mumbled, coming over and sitting down best to Len. 

The ex-con rested his head on her shoulder, enjoying the scent of Ray’s flowery perfume. Daisies, he thinks. 

“I haven’t been truthful either.” He confessed. “Like, my secret past might be worse.”

Ray laughed lightly, rubbing her finger tips into Len’s scalp. “I know you’ve been to prison.”

Len stilled.

“… how?” 

“I saw your parole officer’s contact when I gave you my number after our fist night.”

Len’s mind, once again, raced. “Then, why-“

“You were nice to me.” She cut in. “And you didn’t push for sex on the second date like I thought you would. And you let me ramble about Doctor Who for two hours, so I had to keep you after that.” She chuckled. “You were just, everything I wanted, so I didn’t care that you’re on parole.”

“You don’t even know what I did to go to prison in the first place.”

“Mick told me as I left the apartment that morning, too.”

Len laughed loudly, curling an arm around his girlfriend and pulled them both onto the bed. 

“Of course he did.” Because Mick, for all his apathy, was far too nosy when it cane to Len. 

—-

Lisa smirked at her brother as he opened the door.

“Jerk.” She greeted.

“Train wreck.” He returned, pecking her on the cheek. “Come on, dinner’s nearly ready.”

Brown eyes scanned the lavish apartment. When Lenny had said he wanted her to meet his girlfriend at her place in the uptown, Lisa thought he had been kidding. But now, looking at the expensive art on the walls, decked out entertainment system, and the plush carpeting in the wide floors, she’s starting to believe it. Just a little.

“You didn’t tell my your girl was loaded.” She teased, walking further into the apartment. 

Len chuckled awkwardly at that. “Uh, yeah about that...”

Before Lisa had anytime to wonder what exactly Len meant by that, a pretty dark haired woman wearing a paste sundress came into the open area holding a vase of sunflowers. 

“Oh! You must be Lisa!” She exclaimed happily, setting the vase on a nearby side table. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Len speaks of you so much!” She outstretched her hand to shake. 

Lisa blanched. “You Raylin Palmer.”

Lenny rolled his eyes and the billionaire faltered. 

“Um, yes, uh, hi?”

A sharp chuckle came from her brother. “Bambi, Train wreck; Train wreck, Bambi. Can we eat now?”

Raylin threw Lenny a scolding look but all he did was swagger to her and kissed her cheek. 

“Just give’er a minute, she just needs to wrap her head around it.” He soothed, pulling the woman back in the room she came out of.

“Lise! You want red or white wine?”

“Hold it! How the hell did this happen!” Lisa demanded, marching into the room. A dining room, with a wooden table laden with all of Lisa’s favorites and china plates and real silver cutlery and two buckets of ice chilling various bottles of alcohol. 

Raylin looked sheepish by the head of the table. “Accident?” She offers.

Len, standing by the drinks, mulled over the words. “Sounds about right. So, red or white.”


End file.
